! ! Those Twenty-First Century Bluues...

So it’s morning start time at the office. Or should be. Red-eyed, those tell-tale diagonal ridges from eyes across the cheeks.. we roll in late, proud, but exhausted.. our wrists flashing with bling allied to timekeeping… but even we ourselves don’t care; and sore did you say sore… By now, judging from my emails, just about every wage-earner in the East and West sports a fake Bulgari, Patek Philippe, Gucci, weighing down their wrist; and who believes or cares when we say, we keep the real one at home? Ah yes, at home - where our nights are longer and more extended and you know just what I mean.. and we’d love to go freelance but where but the office could we discreetly boast, show off our new swinging thingies, or our pert bouncers, or simply flash our wrist, to all those who are now equipped with just the same by consumerism’s joyless games and internet’s gross joyless claims, and money now, only confers the same as his; the same as hers.